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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25251658">Long Nights</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStageManager/pseuds/TheStageManager'>TheStageManager</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Mercy [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson &amp; Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blind Obi-Wan Kenobi, Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Nightmares, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Nap, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Qui-Gon Jinn Is a Good Dad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:33:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,423</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25251658</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheStageManager/pseuds/TheStageManager</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Following Melida/Daan, Obi-Wan Kenobi has a long road of recovery ahead of him. It will not be an easy road--the days will be short and the nights will be long--but his Master will always be there to wake him up from every nightmare.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Qui-Gon Jinn &amp; Obi-Wan Kenobi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Mercy [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1829428</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>148</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Long Nights</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Proof that I can write Fluff</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Qui-Gon woke when he felt utter panic tear through the loose bond he shared with his padawan. The last few weeks had been horrendous—Qui-Gon could only imagine what horrors had befallen his padawan in the middle of the night. Nightmares and night terrors had become the norm since the loss of Obi-Wan’s eyesight. There had been a time, very early on, when he and Tahl had taken shifts watching over Obi-Wan while he slept, ready to wake him from the throes of his night terrors before they swallowed him whole.<br/>
<br/>
Of course, that was a long time ago. Obi-Wan had been improving, great thanks to the Mind Healers. But every once and a while, there was still a bad night. Usually it came after a particularly excruciating session with the Mind Healers or Physical Therapists. Other times, the dreams arose after particularly frustrating, emotionally exhausting days wrought with pain and grappling self-worth.<br/>
<br/>
Tonight proved to be no different.<br/>
<br/>
A warbled sob followed by a panicked yell tore through the tiny apartment. Throwing himself out of bed, alarm tearing through his chest in time with the steady, rapid beating of his heart, he practically burst from his room, only to find his padawan curled up in a corner of the room, weeping as he scrabbled at the wall with mangled fingers.<br/>
<br/>
“Obi-Wan?” Qui-Gon asked, and Obi-Wan spun around, his blue eyes, milky and sightless, wide and frightened and so, so relieved as he frantically searched the darkness for his master’s face—as if he somehow believed he could will his sight back into being if he just <em>tried </em>hard enough.<br/>
<br/>
“Master?” he asked, almost disbelieveing, chest heaving. Much to Qui-Gon’s dismay, the relief turned to shame as he furiously scrubbed at the rivulets of tears that tracked down his lumpy, scarred face.<br/>
<br/>
“I apologize,” Obi-Wan said, as realization dawned across his face. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I… forgot where I was,” the admission was small, sheepish, and full of shame. Nevertheless, Qui-Gon’s heart was bursting with pride. Obi-Wan was beginning to open up, to trust. Weeks ago, he would’ve denied that anything had been wrong and Qui-Gon would’ve had to pry the dream from his sealed lips.<br/>
<br/>
Obi-Wan’s hands reached up to touch his face, fingers padding along the mangled surface of his pinched scars. He wasn’t as repulsed by them as he had been, however, Qui-Gon could sense his Padawan’s disappointment, even now.<br/>
<br/>
“It’s alright. I was awake anyways, I couldn’t sleep,” This was a lie but Obi-Wan didn’t need to know it. He frequently wrestled with guilt that didn’t belong to him—he didn’t need the added guilt of knowing he had woken his Master from his slumber.<br/>
<br/>
“Really?” Obi-Wan asked, shoulders sagging in relief as his hands fell to his lap.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes,” Qui-Gon assured, then announced, “I’m coming closer. I’m going to kneel down,” before doing exactly that. He knelt in front of the boy and put a soft hand on his shoulder. “I’m here,” he said, and Obi-Wan’s head bowed.<br/>
<br/>
Such declarations, Qui-Gon had discovered, were quite useful while Obi-Wan was still getting the hang of navigating using other senses. Too many times, Qui-Gon had come too close too quickly and Obi-Wan, without anyway to know who or what was so near him, panicked.<br/>
<br/>
The boy, still kneeling, scooted a little closer—a quiet request to be held, just for a moment. Qui-Gon was happy to oblige.<br/>
<br/>
“You don’t have to do that anymore,” Obi-Wan said softly, sinking into his Master’s arms. “I can hear when you’re coming, and I’m getting better and feeling you in the Force. You don’t have to baby me like that,”<br/>
<br/>
Qui-Gon chuckled at his student’s timid petulance. He pulled the boy closer to his chest and ran a hand through his spiky, sweat soaked hair, tugging affectionately at the padawan braid that was slowly growing longer and longer.<br/>
<br/>
“You didn’t take your braid out,” he commented.<br/>
<br/>
“No,” Obi-Wan said softly. “I was too tired from training with Master Tahl. She’s been really tough on me lately,” he said, wrinkling his nose as his eyelids fell shut. Then, came the quiet admission, “And my fingers hurt too much to try to pick it apart,”<br/>
<br/>
“They will get stronger,” Qui-Gon promised.<br/>
<br/>
There was a quiet beat. Then, Obi-Wan spoke again, another admission, “I miss training with you,”<br/>
<br/>
“Oh?” Qui-Gon asked, carefully removing the band from the bottom of the braid and unweaving the tightly bound strip of hair, easing the beads—markers of achievement—out one by one. The little strand of hair fell free and Qui-Gon pushed it back affectionately. “Why, do you think I’ll go easier on you?”<br/>
<br/>
“No,” Obi-Wan admitted with a breathy little laugh. “But your easier to manipulate, especially if I want to go out for ice-cream after training,” he said, his voice light and full of mirth. “My Tooka Eyes usually work on you. They don’t work on Master Tahl,”<br/>
<br/>
Qui-Gon chuckled. “That’s because Tahl can’t see your Tooka Eyes. You are more cunning and manipulative than I had thought, Padawan, resorting to such childish tactics as batting your eyes and pouting,”<br/>
<br/>
Obi-Wan frowned, tilting his head up against his Master’s chest as allowed his eyes to slide back open. Then, he did just that—be batted his eyes and pouted.<br/>
<br/>
“Tch,” was all Qui-Gon had to offer, shaking his head. He wrapped his fingers around the long strand of hair that was Obi-Wan’s loosened Padawan braid and gave it a firm tug. “Manipulative brat,” he chided, no small amount of affection in his tone.<br/>
<br/>
Obi-Wan merely chuckled, allowing his tired eyes to fall shut once more. “It works every time,”<br/>
<br/>
There was a comfortable silence and Qui-Gon found himself reflecting on the relationship he had with his past apprentices. Xanatos had always been too proud (too frightened) for such affection. His interests had always been more worldly and gift had been the easiest way to appease the volatile young man. Feemor, however, had been much like Obi-Wan—quiet and polite, never willing to take up too much space. He blushed and shied away from compliments, but he soaked up physical affection like a sponge. And Obi-Wan… Obi-Wan very much liked compliments, and he very much liked to be held. However, most of all, Obi-Wan just liked not being <em>alone. </em><br/>
<br/>
“Do you want to talk about it?” Qui-Gon asked gently. He felt as Obi-Wan stiffened in his arms.<br/>
<br/>
“It was… nothing, really. I thought I was back on Melida/Daan in one of the cells. hey were torturing…” he trailed off and exhaled heavily. “I’m sorry, Master. I don’t think I want to talk about it this time,”<br/>
<br/>
Qui-Gon nodded, running a hand down Obi-Wan’s back, feeling the heavy scars where the whips must have struck so long ago. “That’s alright,” he said. “I’m just pleased you’re willing to acknowledge it. We don’t have to pick it apart. Sometimes, bad dreams are just that: bad dreams. In the morning, they fade, forgotten, and we move on,”<br/>
<br/>
Obi-Wan nodded listlessly and indulged in the feeling of being <em>safe, </em>of being <em>wanted</em> for just a moment more before prying himself away and standing up on tired, wobbly legs. “Thank you, Master,” he said, and held out his hand for the band and beads.<br/>
<br/>
Qui-Gon returned them to his student’s palm and watched as Obi-Wan’s fingers bent just enough to cup around the objects, though he still lacked the strength and coordination to close his fingers into a fist around them.<br/>
<br/>
“Off to bed, are you?” Qui-Gon asked, as Obi-Wan carefully dumped the band and three little beads into his pocket to be retrieved (or lost) at a later time.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes Master,”<br/>
<br/>
“Don’t forget to put those beads back on your nightstand before you collapse into bed. You’ll lose them otherwise, and I don’t want to make another request for more Padawan beads. They are important, you know. They represent all you have achieved up to this point. You must treat them with respect,” the Master lectured, watching with amusement as his poor, exhausted Padawan swayed.<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, Master,” Obi-Wan appeased.<br/>
<br/>
“Good,”<br/>
<br/>
“Is that all, Master?”<br/>
<br/>
“Yes, Obi-Wan. Off to bed with you,”<br/>
<br/>
Obi-Wan nodded, struggling to hold his tired head up. “Yes, Master. Thank you,”<br/>
<br/>
“Goodnight, Padawan-mine,”<br/>
<br/>
“Goodnight, Master,”<br/>
<br/>
There was a familiar warmth burning in Qui-Gon’s chest as he watched Obi-Wan kick the door of his room partially closed, leaving it open just enough to see the student collapse on his bed, the beads in his pocket long forgotten.</p>
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